


Find the Lemon

by Castillon02



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:49:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21718690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castillon02/pseuds/Castillon02
Summary: Q Branch had a new game, but this lemon of theirs was rather getting in Bond's way.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 36
Kudos: 215
Collections: Mi6 Cafe Prompt Fills





	Find the Lemon

**Author's Note:**

> For the MI6 Cafe Holiday Exchange. I have not listened to the relevant episode of Cabin Pressure, so apologies in advance if the rules of the game are a little off.

“You, me, some private tests… I think the results would be explosive. And perhaps a nightcap afterward?” Perhaps many nightcaps, depending on how things went… **  
**

“Mm,” Q said. 

_Mm_? What? He finally propositioned Q and his response was an _Mm_? 

When Bond was in Q’s vicinity, Q’s eyes usually focused gratifyingly on him. (Or, all right, at least on his equipment.) This time, they darted. They searched. They made a pretense of engaging with Bond but went back to hunting through the Branch within seconds. 

“Something the matter?” Bond asked. 

“Oh, no. It’s fine,” Q said. He squinted in the direction of a bright yellow desk lamp on a staff member’s desk. “Here, 007, just take your equipment and be done with it. Go explode it or whatever it is you do to mangle things so badly.” He shoved the little gadget case at Bond. 

Bond pretended to leave, but he lingered near the doorway, which was how he saw Q cross the room to the yellow lamp and pick up the citrus fruit that had been partially concealed behind it. 

Across the room, one of Q’s more obvious boffins cursed quietly.

A lemon. Q had been ignoring him in order to find a lemon. 

***

Bond’s mission was to infiltrate a Caribbean smuggling vessel that had picked up some rather dangerous cargo. In light of Q’s faded attention, he made sure to have some unexpected cargo of his own when he returned: undamaged equipment. 

He walked into a bustling Q Branch: teams handling field agents, research and development staff testing gadgets, and of course the litany of nerds at computers who were hunched over and doing something probably important. 

Q was nowhere to be found. 

“I’ll take your equipment, Bond,” Kay said, whisking Bond’s carefully assembled box of undestroyed gadgets away from him. Right before his very eyes, she logged the equipment back in and put a lemon (the same lemon, if the dried-out appearance was to be trusted) into the now-empty gadget box, which she set on Q’s desk. 

“Had to do a bit of wrangling to get him out of the office when he knew you’d come in, but it’s the perfect spot,” she explained to Bond. “Longest round ever, if this works! No one else will touch it, and he always puts off handling your broken bits until the end of the day.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with my bits,” Bond said with dignity. 

Kay shrugged. “He doesn’t know that.” 

Which was true; Q had been handling 002 in Moscow while Bond had been in the tropics. And now Bond couldn’t explain his whole and hale gadgets to him without sounding like a child who wanted a pat on the head. 

Bond narrowed his eyes. The lemon had to go. 

*** 

The lemon moved frequently due to Q Branchers always looking to start a new round of the game, which had evolved into a points-based system somehow; there was a spreadsheet. In order to complete his mission, he would have to isolate the lemon from its staff. 

He lingered in the Branch for a few days, matching wits with Q, field testing a knife-proof tuxedo that Q just so happened to have in his measurements, lulling the Q Branchers into carefully created complacency… 

On the fourth day of surveillance, Bond clocked Jhi dropping the lemon into a shadowy corner of the shooting range before heading home for the night. He booked the range and shot several rounds of experimental ammunition at a paper target in order to give an appearance of normality. Then he took his knife out. No one else was around. Opportunity was at hand. 

For paper, bullets sufficed. With the lemon, it was personal. 

*** 

Q had been at work for twelve hours now; Bond had counted. At least he’d retreated to his private office, which was his routine for the last hour of his workday. 

“You really do deserve a stiff drink,” Bond said, closing Q’s office door behind him. He tilted one of the two martini glasses in his hand in Q’s direction. Both glasses had a twist of lemon peel tucked around the rim.

Q looked up from where he’d been hunched over his desk, for once not coding or filling out paperwork, but rather lost in thought, a finger tracing over his lips. To his credit, it only took him a moment of looking at the drinks before his eyes widened and he grinned. “That’s one way to win, I suppose,” he said.

“And what does the winner get?” Bond asked, letting his fingers brush against Q’s as he gave him the martini glass. 

Q’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes were dark, all of his incredible focus centered on Bond’s face, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips. “I think it would be more interesting if you named your prize,” he said.

Bond smiled. “You,” he said. “In my kitchen, while I cook you dinner. You skipped lunch, Quartermaster.” 

“Hmm.” Q arched his eyebrows. “I thought you wanted an explosive nightcap.” 

So Q _had_ been listening! He’d just got the wrong idea. “Don’t be stupid,” Bond said gently. “With the two of us playing, any game will last much longer than ‘Find the lemon,’ let alone ‘Find the cock.’” Q was far too clever for Bond to finish with him in just one night. 

Q’s face, thoughtful before, turned wolfish. “I see. Come on, then—let’s see if you’re as good as you think you are,” he said, and he knocked his drink back in a long, tempting swallow. “And Bond? I play to win, whatever that ends up looking like.” 

Bond knew; he’d seen the spreadsheet. 

*** 

Q stole an orange from Bond’s flat on his way out. “Dessert,” he teased, “since you left me with coffee and not much else.” He hadn’t seemed displeased about it; the evening had shown both of them that their war of wits could continue on many different fronts, with victory assured to neither party.

A long game, just as Bond had predicted. 

The next day, the orange of course showed up in Q Branch to replace the lemon Bond had destroyed, but that was fine. Even once the orange was in play, Q only had eyes for Bond. And for his part, Bond had never felt so pleased to be seen. 

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Bond inadvertently disrupts the long-ongoing Q-Branch game of travelling lemon/hide the lemon by using said lemon as garnish." I'm afraid I didn't quite get the inadvertent bit, but I hope the prompter still enjoys! 
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome; thank you for reading! <3


End file.
